


Tracks Of My Tears

by Honey_Rae_Pluto



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Break Up, Childbirth, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Older Man/Younger Man, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Rae_Pluto/pseuds/Honey_Rae_Pluto
Summary: Roger is in his seventies when he meets the aspiring musician Brian, who's only twenty one.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS; This first chapter involves smut and miscarriage, and the whole story revolves around a major age gap, please don't read if any of this is likely to be a problem.

How bad would it look, Roger wondered, if someone walked into his room right now. If they saw this white haired, grandfather aged, old man in bed with someone in their twenties, someone so young, so new to life and so inexperienced in the world. 

Someone who worked below him at the studio, who was trying to go up in the world quickly, someone with bags of determination...

It had already crossed his mind that Brian could just be fucking him to get ahead of the game, standing on people’s necks to become the next big musician. There was plenty like him, there always had been; Roger could remember a time he wasn’t far off of that stereotype himself. But what if he was? Roger should've retired years ago, if someone wants to use him as a leg up they were welcome to, he could hardly complain about the sex. That's not what bothered him.

Brian had already said he loved him.

He didn’t want to believe him - he was young and silly, throwing caution to the wind and confessing love as soon as he felt the slightest hint of passion, no, this couldn’t be love, and it may never become that.

They were together though, this unlikely relationship. Roger tried not to think about how it looked, or how Brian was younger than most of his children. Right now he was trying to think of how the hell he managed it, how he was able to - as an elderly man - score someone so beautiful, with so much potential. He certainly hadn’t used money as an incentive, although he rather fancied himself as the provider type. Brian had gotten rather irate when his boyfriend (who had yet to refer to himself as such) had tried to buy him a coat.

Perhaps he was sincere, he was earning his own money after all, they’d been together for the best part of six months and the guitarist hadn’t even asked for change for the bus.

Brian sighed next to him, rolling around in bed to pull him in a bit closer, “You’re frowning.”

“I was just thinking, dear,” Roger shushed him, “You went out like a light, not too sore?”

“Hmm, no, you know how to look after me,” Brian leaned over to kiss his cheek, “I always feel like the most special person alive with you.”

“You should do, you are,” the words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. He did like Brian, a lot. It wasn’t just the sex, or the appeal of youth. It was something timeless, like if they’d been the same age he’d still love this man beyond his wildest dream, he’d have the stupidity to tell him too. He’d have the courage. “ You can go and shower if you want, I can call for a take away.”

“Or I could order from my phone, save either of us having to do talking,” Brian told him, pulling himself upright, obvious hickies on his neck and chest, “The way you do it gives me anxiety.”

“Fine,” he kept his comment about the snowflake generation to himself, knowing Brian had plenty to say about the boomers, “Just don’t take forever.”

“Curly hair needs longer on the conditioner stage, and don’t start that you used to wash with fairy liquid when you were my age,” Brian replied with a smirk, pulling the app up on his mobile, “Oh, and eh… would you be up for meeting my parents on Sunday?”

"I really don't think I should be meeting them, they're really not going to like this."

That made Brian look up from his phone, confusion etched into his features.

"Brian think it through, I'm older than they are, never mind you." Roger raised an eyebrow, "Please lose that idea."

"We've been together for six months, it's what couples do." He sat back, "Or is this not serious to you?"

"Of course it's serious, I… I am serious about you. You know that." Roger sighed - of course he was being difficult, "I just don't want to get you in trouble, you've got to admit it doesn't look good from the outside."

"It looks fine from the outside," Brian crossed his arms, "you're my boyfriend, not some deranged pimp."

"And what happens in ten years when I'm eighty? Or when I'm dead?"

"I'll still love you. We're not doing this again, not this argument. We are a normal couple."

“Go shower, we can talk about this after dinner, okay?”

***

Brian can feel the eyes on him, Rogers kids all looking at him with the same intensity - they don't like him. What did he expect? He's dating their dad, he's only a couple of years older than Lola, that's hardly step parent material, hell; he's young enough to be Felix's son.

He’d originally jumped at the idea of joining the family at a barbeque when the opportunity came up a few weeks after the first discussion about meeting each others families, it seemed like a storybook way to get everyone to get on, to convince Roger that having them mix like this was good, that if this went well he could use it to prove to his boyfriend that meeting his parents wouldn’t be so bad.

But now it's agony to be sat there.

If Roger notices he doesn't show it, keeping a steady hand on his thigh as he talks about the weather. Brian can't concentrate, he feels like he shouldn't be there, like he's causing a problem. So he just stays quiet.

He'd talk to Roger later, talk to the siblings too, make his intentions clear, but for now, he just wanted to be swallowed up by the ground.

He doesn’t feel like he lets out a breath until they get back into Roger’s car. They shouldn’t even tell his parents, not for as long as humanly possible, he could go over to their house on the weekends and talk about his PhD studies, or the album, or literally anything - he wasn’t doing to Roger what he just did to himself.

But what then? What if they got married or went on holiday together, did the usual coupley things that his parents would presumably notice. What if his career took off in the music industry, they’d see it if he was caught hanging around with an old man like that.

What if they had children? He wanted them, ever since he was a kid himself he wanted to have babies of his own, but Roger was already a father, five times over. He certainly didn’t need to be changing nappies at his age. He didn’t really know what he was going to do about that, if he was going to sacrifice that dream for the sake of love, or give up love for the sake of children that didn’t exist yet.

Or they could do both...

“We could get a cat, if you think a dog is too much work for you,” Brian was pestering, Roger realised as he glanced beside him in the car, the curly haired man was beating about the bush instead of getting to the point, “Rog, how about that, you said you’d owned cats before.”

“Yeah, Ziggy, but that was ages ago, and they jump all over the place,” Roger turned back to look at the road, hoping whatever it was, he’d stop talking soon, “Have you finished up the songs by the way? We’ve got work tomo-”

“What if it’s a three legged cat?” Brian asked, “They have them at the shelter, or a hedgehog, you see people on Instagram who have them as pets-”

“No cat. And no maniacal pin cushions either,” Roger poked him, “What’s this all about, huh?”

“It’s what couples do, they get pets,” Brian told him, “Sort of like test runs for babies, right?”

“I don’t know if this would be a test run,” Roger muttered, “I’m not having more kids at my age.”

“No?” He knew how this was going to play out, but he still had to ask, some vane hope wishing for a different answer.

“How many people in their seventies do you see having kids? I’ve been a father for too long now, I don’t want to be seeing my children and grandchildren off to school at the same time.”

“It’s just a suggestion, like for the future,” Brian told him, biting his lip - he knew deep down Roger was right; they couldn’t have children. “I’d like to be a mum one day.”

“Brian you’re twenty one, relax,” Roger shushed him, seemingly the discussion was over, or Brian had put it on hold for now, “I’ll consider the cat thing later.”

***

He knew what it was from the moment he woke up.

He'd sort of suspected he was pregnant for a few days now, timing it roughly to either his twenty second birthday or Rogers seventy first the following week, so eight or nine weeks.

Definitely an accident.

He'd tried to pretend it wasn't happening, just wanted to be wrong about it. But it was all over now, the dull ache in his lower stomach, even half awake his mind knew what had been lost.

Roger shook his awake completely, the covers pulled back to reveal the bloodied sheets.

And then everything seemed to happen in a flash. He'd called some doctor in to confirm it, and Brian was moved to the shower so he could wash up and change while Roger remade the bed. Brian found his body walking around silently, holding a cup of tea he'd been given long since gone cold in his shaking hands.

Roger took it off of him eventually, whispering softly as they got back into bed, pulling him close. "... It's all over now, it's alright."

"I don't understand."

Roger opens his eyes to look at him, probably the first time he'd spoken that day. That fucking awful day. It was well into the afternoon by then, dark outside, cold too. 

"What?" Roger said at last, looking at Brian's nails, he'd chewed them to the point they were starting to scab.

"I was… I was pregnant... Never even knew about it, not properly." Brian looked down at him, he'd been crying - they both had.

"Too early to tell," Roger shrugged, holding him close - they’d have to be more careful. He didn’t want Brian to go through something like that again. "You've got a lecture tomorrow, you should get some sleep."

"I don't want to," Even if he did, he wasn't getting the images of a life that would never happen and blood stained sheets out of his head anytime soon, "I'm sorry."  
"Me too." Roger sighed through his nose, "Me too."

Should he feel worse? He felt numb inside, it had been his child too, and all he could think was logically, this had been a good outcome. Not a nice one, not one that wasn’t going to haunt them both for as long as they lived, however long that was. Just the least problematic one.

He felt bad for Brian though, whoever he loved after he was dead and cold would now have that to deal with, along with God knows what other psychological damage he was leaving on the young man with his actions. Roger cuddled into him, the poor thing still all curled up into a ball beside him. "You can get another paracetamol now if you want."

"No, I want to know this is happening," Brian mumbled, "I don't want this to fade in my mind."

"Sweetheart, you don't need to torture yourself over it, things happen," particularly with his age, likely they wouldn't have a healthy child if they tried, "It's over now."

"I don't think I want it to be," Brian told him quietly, he knew how Roger felt; a painful but ideal outcome. "I won't be having any kids so let me mourn this one."

"I..." What could he say? He had children, adult children. Nothing like this had happened before to him, and he felt like shit for being relieved, but Brian? He could move on after he'd died, find someone who could give him that... "Take your time, love."

***

One year later.

That’s all it took for Brian’s career to take off, to hit the charts and the indie playlists, to become one of those niche artists that gets a popular song. Roger wondered in the back of his mind if the pain of losing the baby had driven the darker songs, or if he’d always had that fine edge to him that demanded for the anguish he felt to resonate.

They hadn’t really ever talked about it, he knew Brian had had a bad patch around the time that, if he hadn’t lost the baby, they’d have been born, but other than that they carried on, healing, bonding.

By then Roger's kids had given up any hope of losing the curly haired man, and Brian’s parents had found out about the relationship, but what could they do? They were just trying to be a normal couple doing normal couple things.

Either way, his love was now a rockstar, and one that was about to do the biggest tour of his life.

Roger pulled him out of the party, bringing them both to the hotel room for his surprise. Carefully he poured a glass of champagne, watching as Brian too a sip, his free hand undoing his tie.

“You up for a surprise?” Roger grinned, losing his own jacket and settling on the bed.

“You better not have bought me anything, you know what i’ve said about that,” Brian frowned.

“It’s not, not something you’ll complain about anyway. Come here,” Roger motioned him forward, pulling him in once he was close enough, Brian pretty much straddling one of his thighs now. “Good lad.”

Roger slid his arms around Brian’s neck as he kissed down his jaw and onto the pale skin of his neck, stopping where his dress shirt covered, managing to pull soft whimpers and gasps from Brian when his teeth nipped at the flesh there too, sucking against particularly sensitive spots. 

The older man continued messing with the guitarist's neck with his mouth, hands slipping from their perch on his thin thighs to ghosting right over his arse. Brian felt them pull his shirt out of the way, slipping them under and up his back. He smiled against Roger’s neck when the added sensation and slight comfort made him pretty much melt against them. 

“That good, love?” Roger whispered, kissing under the junction of his jaw.

“Yes,” Brian sighed, letting himself forget all about the stresses of work and uni and just let Roger treat him like this, moving his own hands to the older man’s hips while Roger’s hands shifted to his sides, stomach, chest, pretty much anywhere he could set them.

Brian gasped softly when Roger clawed the sides of his lower ribs very gently, not that it could hurt but enough that the sensation made the blood rush to his groin.

He let out a soft whine and tried to press himself closer to Roger, trying to breath in his scent.

“Look at you, famous musician,” Roger let out a short laugh, finally grabbing Brian’s hips and guiding him to grind his hips against his leg, feeling the little tremble in the hands that now moved to grip his waist. 

It didn’t take long for Bri to start letting quiet moans slip out of his half parted lips, but the exact moment they got louder Roger would stop what he was doing, holding him still so he couldn’t get any friction on his now hardening member.

“Stop teasing,” Brian whimpered, “I thought you were going to be nice to me today-”

Roger turned them quickly on the bed, shoving Brian onto his back. He may be old, but he certainly hadn’t lost it, he didn’t plan to either. He settled between Brian’s legs, looking down at him. He could see the electricity in the hazel eyes, the want. God he loved him.

Brian spread his legs on instinct, giving Roger more room. “Roger…”

The ex drummer started gently rubbing his calloused hand over Brian's still covered dick, “What do you say about getting that surprise now, love?” 

“Please... please, ahh..” Brian nodded feverishly as Roger pressed a particularly strong motion, bucking his hips up into his hand.

“Alright… up and get them off,” Roger slapped his arse slightly as he moved off of him, the younger man being as quick as he could to follow the order on shaky legs, striping away his clothes. Roger watched for a moment, reaching into the bedside draw he’d prepared before they went to the party. His hand found the bullet as Brian clambered back onto him. “For being so good, get on your back.”

Brian shifted, watching wide eyed as Roger switched the vibrator on, gently running it over his now naked thigh, keeping it at a distance whenever he tried to buck his hips. He moaned lowly when Roger let the bullet drift close to his cock.

Roger laughed quietly after a moment of repeating these motions, moving Brian’s legs so that his hips would be propped up more and they could move the vibrator to ghost right over his entrance, before returning to it’s motions on his thighs as if nothing happened, knocking the device up two levels forcing considerably louder whining noises out of his partner.

Roger pulled away for a moment to let Brian get his senses together. “You’re so beautiful, Brimi.”

“I-” Brian threw his head back when the vibrator was suddenly at his tip, travelling down his shaft before resting against his entrance. His moans got louder, not caring about the potential neighbours they might have, only that Roger was switching up the intensity.

Roger stopped after a while, using his knee to keep the vibrator where it was while leaning over Brian to gently set a hand on his shoulder, running his fingers through his curls. He admired the sight before him, Brian’s breathing getting faster and his moans louder, desperately trying to get more stimulation by squirming and grinding against him, his naked body pale against the black suit Roger was still wearing.

“You’re doing so well, baby. So well. You’re taking it so beautifully...” He said into Brian’s curls, working his way up his neck and to his jaw, before capturing his lips in a quick kiss, slipping his tongue into his mouth.

Brian made eye contact for a second, whiskey pupils pleading for more through the few tears already welling up.

“Colour?”

“Green- please, Roggie. Green.”

He nodded, slowly pressing the toy back against Brian and watching as his eyes screw shut as he let out a long whine, his face all the way down to his chest was flushed red, his hair everywhere, he really did take it beautifully, like a sculpture of passion, some great muse all of beauty should study. 

He looked so perfectly literally fucked, even before the main event. It was intoxicating, like being lost inside the eye of the storm, surrounded by their love, by all the fears and hopes and what little future they would have.

Brian arched his back the slightest bit while his hands were tangled into the bedsheets, whining out Roger’s name between moans, feeling his lips over him again, the toy being pulled away again for the final time.

Roger kept a hand on his hips to stop him moving, using his spare hand to undo his belt and zip, pulling out his hard member. He reached over the top of Brian, going back into the draw for the lube, “Open yourself up, pretty baby.” 

Brian blushed hard, opening the tub, sleeking up his index and middle finger. He carefully reached down between his legs, biting his lip gently as he nudged his already sensitive hole with a single digit. He pushed it in without much hesitation, holding back a moan badly. 

“Wanna hear those noises, baby.” Roger watched him do it, hands rubbing up and down his thighs.

He pushed a second digit in, a loud moan broke between his lips immediately afterwards. He pressed in his third finger, his other hand balled in the pillow by his head as he began to scissor his entrance; ignoring the slight pain that always accompanied the beginning stretch.

Roger took the meantime, coating his painfully hard member, working his thumb against the tip as he watched Brian’s fingers disappearing into his tight heat. “Jesus, Brian…”

Brian took that as a signal to stop, removing his hand and splaying his legs open for him, “Roger… Please, I need you… I need you right now.”

Roger’s breath hitched as he pushed into him, leaning over his thin, naked body, hands gripping his hips tightly, he’d left bruises there before. He watched Brian’s eyes roll into the back of his head once he was fully bottomed out, thick member stretching out the younger man more than any fingers could, even after dating for so many months. “You always look so pretty on my cock.”

Roger pulled him back in for a kiss, starting to thrust his hips in and out; neither would last long tonight. He shifted his angle so he was hitting upwards, aiming for Brian’s prostate dead on if the loud moans between kisses were anything to go by.

As they got faster Brian’s moans started to raspy gasps, hands clinging tightly to Roger’s clothes, legs locked in place around his waist, “Oh… Oh God… Roger I’m close.”

“Me too,” Roger hummed, picking the pace up as much as he could, “Cum with me, Brian…”


	2. Chapter 2

"Earth to Brian," Freddie poked his cheek, "Have you been listening to any of what I've said?"

"Yes." Brian sat up quickly, looking around to work out what had been going on.

"I said we should try to redo the takes from yesterday, just if you're up for it," The old man told him, "You're not looking much better."

"I'm fine, you worry too much," Brian pushed his hand from his forehead, "I'm not ill."

"Roger said you haven't been well for a while, he texted to say you probably weren't coming in today," Freddie told him, something glinting in his eyes.

"So he's not so useless at texting as he pretends," Brian muttered, "Look, I'm fine; just a bit nauseous."

"Just nauseous, darling?" Freddie raised an eyebrow, "You did have that big celebration last month."

"The tour announcement party, what are you getting at?"

"Blind melon Taylor is still doing the deed then." Freddie smirked, "Randy old sod, isn't he?"

"Freddie..?"

"Come on, we'll call our lunch break now, dear," he took the young man's hand, "We can stop at the chemists before we eat."

"What are you on about?" Brian shook his head, "Freddie?"

"Just take a test, yeah?"

"I'm not pregnant. I can't be." Brian refused, "Roger would have a heart attack."

***

"Shit," the colour had drained from his face, "Oh god, fuck."

"It's not that bad, is it?" Freddie peered over his shoulder to make sure it was definitely positive.

"Yes. This is terrible," Brian looked at him, eyes still like a deer in headlights, "Either I tell Roger and lose him, or I get rid of it... Or it goes the same way it did last time-"

"Or you tell Roger and he doesn't act like a twat," Freddie reasoned, "He's a good man, he wouldn't leave you, or the baby. And maybe nothing will go wrong, darling. You could be worrying about nothing."

"I'm not worrying enough," Brian leaned heavily against the wall, sliding down it into the floor feeling too faint to stand, "I've fucked this up... I've really gone and fucked it all up."

***

"Rog?" Brian called from the sofa, hearing the front door close, "Is that you?"

"Yes, Chelsea lost, three nil to Arsenal," Roger grouched, ditching his coat on the back of a chair, "Bloody refs not keeping an eye on it, practically a steal- you haven't got a clue what I'm saying."

"No," Brian shifted to let him onto the sofa, "How's your family?"

"Our family," Roger corrected, "Kids are good, Felix is still planning his fortieth, he's said you can come."

"He doesn't like me-"

"I didn't tell him to say that, he decided to freely," Roger poked him, surprised at how much Brian flinched, "It'll just be a piss up, you're lucky; don't get hungover at your age."

"I don't think I can go," Brian sat up a little, picking the skin of his thumb.

"You should be back from the tour," Roger shook his head, "Or have they added extra dates?"

"No, it's really not that... I've something to tell you... I'm so so sorry..."

“What is it?” Roger slipped his coat off, “Is it about the tour?”

“I’m pregnant,” Brian looked away. He could hear the coat land heavily on the floor, then silence. For ten long minutes an eternity of time ranged through them and nothing was said. He’d fucked up the only good relationship he’d ever had. "Roger say something..."

The older man just stared at him, shaking his head slightly, "No."

"No what?" Brian frowned, "Look, I know we're still fairly new, but two years is still more than some couples, we can manage this, you've done it before-"

"Brian, I'm old enough to be a grandad, old enough to be your grandad, nevermind a baby," Roger snapped, "It's not happening."

"So we're not even going to have a talk about it?"

"No, of course not, don't be stupid."

"Stupid?" Brian stood up, "You know, I actually thought you'd be happy, you're always talking about trying to make me part of the family properly."

"Yeah, and I haven't so you don't get tied down," Roger followed him up, watching him grab his coat, "I'm likely dead in twenty years, I can't do this again. Where are you going?"

"Out." Brian brushed him off, "I need to think. Alone "

***

"Of course you can, you know your room is always ready for you," His mum ruffled his hair slightly, smiling at the unexpected visit from her son, "We got you a could of books too, they'll be up there too. Oh and your dad left you a bag of jelly babies because he thinks you're five."

"Is it the proper jelly babies?" Brian looked up, so far he'd yet to actually tell her about the baby, the human baby growing inside him. It was all too weird, like he was this big rockstar one moment, or he was living domestically with his boyfriend, now he was here: getting his dinner made and watching Harry potter like when he was little.

"Of course it is, we're proud enough to not save the ten pence, dear," She laughed, "Your Papa's been down the pub telling his mates all about your new tour, you know what he's like."

"Yeah..."

"How's that man?" Ruth asked, the tone dropping in her voice, they’d still never met, "Is he still there for you?"

"No..." Brian looked down, "I'm living at my own flat for a bit."

Which wasn't a lie; his stuff was back in there. He just happened to be with Freddie and Jim a lot more these days, knowing they were pretty much babysitting but feeling too alone without them.

"That's... Brimi," she hugged him, "There's plenty others out there, you'll find someone. Bet even on this tour you'll come across loads of people you like."

"I won't," he could see her about to argue, "Mum, really... I'm pregnant."

Ruth seemed to think about it for a long minute, anger crossing her face. "Come here, what's that nasty man done to you."

***

"You can't stay here forever," Freddie looked at him, the old man watching him, "Brian I mean it, for one you've got a show tonight, second, he knows you're here."

"I've been here for six weeks, he doesn't care," Brian shook his head, "Fred, seriously, he only called to make sure I'd ‘dealt’ with it. I mean, who even says that anymore?"

"We are several generations behind you," Fred pointed out, "He's not had kids in the house for twenty years."

"I know, I get it, I just don't understand why he won't even talk about it," Brian sat up, not looking at the small curve in his middle, "I'll go after I get back from the tour, speak to him, then."

"You know he's not happy about the tour either," Freddie passed him one of the cats, his main way of getting Brian to relax in the time he'd been at Garden lodge hiding. "You'll be seven months by the time it's done."

"I know, I'm trying not to think about it," Brian sighed, "It's not too late to get rid of it, I suppose... I just don't want to choose between them, between Roger and his baby."

***

Twenty weeks, exactly half way. Well, less than half way if the kid doesn't stick to a due date, but with any luck.

Brian had just come off stage, several hands and helpers throwing robes and towels at him the second he was done, guiding him in the direction of the dressing room. It was overwhelming some days, having so much happening, but now it was nicely quiet, he was just scrolling through his socials, reading largely positive feedback from fans, and mostly negative comments from critics and his bosses.

There's a knock at the dressing room door but he doesn't look up. "Jim, if Freddie's sent you to babysit you can head back to him, there's nothing going on with m-"

"I can see that." Roger. Brian spun his chair to look at him. "You kept it."

"You didn't care," Brian crossed his arms, "Roger seriously, you never even asked."

"Yeah, cause by the time they're twenty I'll be dead," Roger matched his tone, "What's the use in that?"

"She'd still know you for twenty years, maybe more, she'd still love you." Brian snapped, "Rog... Please. Let yourself in."

"She?"

"I don't know... Just feels right."

"I've got to go..." Roger shook his head, "I... I love you."

Brian lets out a dry sob once he’s gone, wondering if he was ever really there, if his mind had just conjured up that first ‘I love you’ to mock him. The baby shifted around, enough for him to feel it more than a flutter. He pressed his hand flat against the spot. He could feel it against his palm.

First kicks.

And their dad had just walked away from them, possibly forever.

***

He's scrolling through his phone again as he waits to be called for a scan, there's a lot about him; there seems to be anyway. He’s on his phone a lot, trying to distract himself from Roger

Thr media had flipped from accusing him of being a sugar baby to accusing Roger of all sorts of horrific things. There was interest in the baby too, speculation that it wasn't Rogers or that he wasn't really pregnant. He wasn't that surprised when the tabloids came out with another wild story.

What surprised him was the comments section, the fans and followers that seemed to dispell the negativity and just congratulate him, them. It was all over, his Instagram, the website, his YouTube channel.

But Roger doesn’t get the same praise.

He can see the articles, the name calling. One headline calls him a paedo, the text below claiming they started dating when Brian was sixteen, others saying he’d been grooming him since he was far younger. Brian frowned, feeling sick to his stomach - they were pulling someone he loved through the mud and he was helpless.

“Mr May?” The nurse calls him in before he can search further, patting the examination table, “If you’d like to lift your shirt up and I’ll get the gel on.”

Brian did as he was told, it certainly wasn’t the first appointment he’d been to, despite the mad tour schedule. He inhaled a little as the cold gel was put on him, but his eyes went immediately to the screen, looking to see some sort of baby looking squiggle. His hands toyed with his hoodie, wanting Roger’s hand to hold. He wanted Roger there generally, someone to hold him through the worst parts; but he’d already accepted that wasn’t going to happen.

“Here,” She pointed to the dark blob, “That’s the head, so they’re facing your left side right now. Would you like to know the gender?”

“Yes… Yes I would.” Brian nodded quickly, feeling the tears start to well.

“There we go,” She replied after a couple of moments searching, “Healthy little boy, should start to see him move a lot more since he’s lying in front of the placenta.”

“A boy?

“That’s right,” She nodded.

***

It's five months along when he gets caught by a camera, leaving a clinic that can only mean one thing, Roger sees it on the headlines, having blocked out all the ones that were solely about him. He wasn't even looking at the camera, that's the worst thing, staring at the print outs, hand resting on the small rise through his shirt.

Roger can't make much more out of the photo, but he feels like it's suffocating him. He'd caught some of the lastest performance on the Graham Norton show, seen Brian's face when he'd gone online, heard his voice on the radio.

He seemed to be doing far better without him.

Part of him supposed that was about right, he'd just be a sperm donor if nothing else, maybe that'd been Brian's plan all along? Just to use him until he could reach somewhere else.

Didn't seem right though. Brian still left him emails with scan photos that he never opened, still called and texted, even messaging his youngest daughters to try to get through to him. The tables had turned in that sense, his kids now held a grudge at him for abandoning Brian.

Roger sighed, putting down the paper, he was too old for this. He hadn’t even fully realised it until he’d had the heart murmur, but he really was going to see so little of this baby’s life there was almost no point in being there.

So he wasn’t-

"Dad!" Felix hammered his knuckles against the front door, "Open up."

Roger had hoped he'd give up, having refused any phone calls from the girls all day after realising what they were trying to say. But he couldn't hide in there forever, Rufus had spare keys and it wouldn't take long for him to get back into London if they called him.

He opened the door slowly, Felix's face furious, blue eyes matching his own glaring at him. "You know, we genuinely went over to Brian's office to ask him how the hell he thinks he can get away with abandoning you, how he can take your child, our /sibling/ and run away like that. And he broke down."

"It's not your sibling, it's hardly even my child," Roger sighed, stepping back to let him in, "Not at my age-"

"Well it's happened, whether you're a pensioner or not." Felix told him, "Dad, you can't just leave Brian like that, he needs you."

"Since when did you care?" Roger scoffed, "Really, you've always disliked him, always made him feel bad for being involved."

"Since he's still trying to make things work and you're not," Felix shook his head, "Dad please, he's scared, biggest tour of his life, media at him from every angle, jesus he's only just decided to drop the PhD."

"I can't do it. I won't." Roger refused, "If he wants to keep that thing then so be it, I'm having nothing to do with it."

"Did you love him? All those times we questioned if he was there for the money, to get a leg up in the game, what were you after?" Felix studied his face for a moment, "What was it? Someone to keep you warm at night? So you're not alone?"

"Of course I love him, that's why I've let him go." Roger snapped, “Felix, I can’t keep pretending to be something I’m not.”

***

It was late at night when he called, the Braxton Hicks keeping him awake just as much as the loneliness. The tour was over now, he was meant to be excited; that's what people were asking him to be, were telling him he should be. He'd have a baby in a month, he was already so successful and so young: the world was telling him he had it all.

But he didn't have Roger.

He was calling Roger’s number before he realised it, hearing it play through a few times. Maybe he should hang up?

"Hello?" Roger's voice made that impossible.

"It's me... Roger it's me," Brian told him, "I... I wanted to talk to you."

"You shouldn't," Roger told him, "I thought you'd have moved on by now."

"I can't, even if I'd tried." That hurt, Roger brushing him off. The baby gave him a hard kick to the lungs, seemingly just as hurt.

"You okay?"

"Just the baby," Brian told him, "He's like you I guess."

"He's nothing to do with me," Roger refused, his voice sounding pained, "you need to get on with your life."

“You are my life, until this baby comes, you’re my life,” Brian sounded hollow, “Please…”

“Look after your baby, Brian. Find someone who can love you for your whole life.” The line hung up after that, leaving him all alone in the middle of the night.

Brian shook his head, feeling another one of the contractions surge through him; he wasn’t sure that it wasn’t real labour now, all day it had been going on, but that last one was properly painful. He wanted Roger with him. Slowly he stood up, cradling the bump, moving back up to his room slowly; if he didn’t go into labour today he’d be surprised.

He tried to get some sleep for a few hours, not really able to between the cramps that seemed to get closer and closer together, getting worse and lasting longer. 

He gave up after a while, walking around the house to try to ease them. It was early morning when he finally called to get a lift to the hospital, a bag packed with things he’d need beside him, phone in hand.

He texted a few people, his parents, Freddie, but his finger’s only hovered over Roger’s name. He wasn’t going to tell him, not until it was all over.

***

He’d been trying to push for over an hour, feeling like he had no energy after being in labour for so long, after being alone for so long. He’d called Roger again, attempted to anyway, just as he got to the eight cm point, but the old man hadn’t even picked up the phone.

He was doing this by himself.

“Brian, you’ve got to give us another strong push,” The midwife told him, a worried look on her face, “Baby’s going to start getting distressed if we wait much longer.”

Brian nodded, pulling his legs up towards him again, the pain searing through him as the baby tried to crown again. It took too many attempts, the felt like he was starting to tear in half each time.

“We’re going to do an assisted delivery,” The midwife pressed the buzzer, the room swarming with people. And none of them were Roger. Suddenly Brian started to panic, people were all over him and he was pushed flat against the bed, someone pressing against his bump as the contraction started.

He caught a glimpse of the forceps, dangerous looking things that made him panic more, heart rate monitors going off around him. “Please… no… save the baby-”

He cut himself off with a scream, the bright lights starting to dim as something inside of him stung more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading. So this was actually something that was requested by a few people based off of tumblr asks, so if you've seen bits before it's cause I recycled a lot of them


	3. Chapter 3

"Dad?" Felix was surprised when he answered, it'd been over a day since he'd hung up on Brian, and no one had been able to get a hold of him since.

"What's happened?" Roger sounded worried, voice strained and thin from something else, like he'd been crying. "Tabloids are all saying he's dead, that they both are."

"So you'll read the daily mail instead of being there properly?" Felix snarked, "He's stable right now, Brian I mean. Baby was born an hour or so ago. Little boy."

"A boy?"

"Yeah, Ruf is driving there now, I think Tiger is with him," Felix told him, "You've really fucked this up, by the way."

"I'm on my way," Roger told him, "I'll be there in a few hours."

"Dad, you should've been there two days ago, you should've been there six months ago actually. I think you're too late."

***

"Careful," Rory had managed to get a longer lunch break to guide him to the neonatal, letting him in the back entrance to avoid the reporters, "Remember to support his nec-"

"I've held babies before," Roger gave his daughter a look, "Been doing this for forty years."

"Alright, okay. He's a decent weight, eight pounds," she told him, "He's a bit jaundiced, and mind his head where the gash is."

"It really went wrong, didn't it?" Roger traced his finger over the red bruising on his newborn, "Brian's still..?"

"It was complicated, baby will be just fine in a few days, the cut from the forceps will heal," she nodded, "Brian's doing better too, he was awake for a while, his parents came in to bring some of his things, he’ll be here a bit longer than he’d packed for. They’re away now, said they’d go make sure his flat is tidy and ready for the baby."

"He's not... He's not coming with me?" Roger held the baby closer if anything, the poor thing looked more fragile than any he'd seen before.

"Dad, you've not really given the impression you even wanted to be here, you can't expect him to want to see you."

"I fucked up..." Roger sighed, "Does he have a name?"

***

He wasn't sure what day it was now, or if he'd missed anything. It was all a blur, being wheeled away from his baby, the world going dark around him, the loud noises fading, he'd felt the baby on his chest at one point, but who knew how long ago what was.

Now he was more awake, more in pain too, the meds had been lowered pretty substantially so he could feel everything - but that was good, meant he was awake, able to see the child. He still wasn't sure what happened, so much seemed to; so many people rushing into the room and none of them were Roger.

No, Roger didn't want him.

He'd been told not to move too much, that he could chest feed the little one but he wasn't to try to get up or sit up too much, certainly it would be a while before he left.

But now he had his baby, his little baby in his arms: nothing mattered, not even Roger if he was being honest. Roger didn't care either, no matter how much it hurt him.

"Hey you," He took the little one's hand, "tiny bug, you know me?"

The baby wrapped his hand around the finger: Tigerlily must've dressed him up in the little baby grow, the bright orange wasn't something he imagined a hospital would use.

"Strong grip, bet you'll be a drummer like dad. Big world you there, huh?" Brian smiled, "Roger junior then, Roger Gravity Taylor."

***

"I don't like it," Tiger lily shook her head, peering in to the baby, "Can we at least call him Gee?"

"I've a feeling you're going to," Brian nodded, "Freddie suggested Grey as a short form of Gravity, but Gee works too "

"Well I like Roger," Felix nodded, "Honest to God don't know why you're honouring him though."

"Because I don't want to let go," Brian admitted, passing the baby off to Rufus for a moment.

"He's a Taylor," Lola decided, "And he's one of us, so if dad doesn't want in, he'll still have five siblings."

***

Roger walked in slowly, more nervous than he'd realised. He'd never been this separate from any of the other kids, he'd certainly never missed their births or abandoned their mums like that.

He peered around the door, spotting Brian's body on the bed, still looking fairly pregnant from it all: although he'd missed so much of it he couldn't be sure. Brian seemed to be asleep, one arm extended out to the Moses basket, wrist and elbow hooked up to machines.

Roger stepped closer, eyeing the basket carefully now, hearing something whine from inside it. The baby. He'd met little Rog before, and Rory had been right about the bruising going down pretty quickly.

Not that it helped the guilt.

Roger looked at his son properly, hair starting to curl around the edge of the bobble hat and his arm had escaped the swaddle that he assumed Brian had tried to do himself, lack of experience or mobility hindering him slightly. He should've been there.

"He's just nodded off," Brian's voice startled him, "Fussy thing, didn't want to settle all day."

"Brian... I'm, I'm sorry." Roger looked up, "I shouldn't have-"

"You did though, and what happened happened," Brian sighed, "I can't keep you if you're going to do that again."

"I won't leave you," Roger promised, "I just need to think first... It's a lot to take in."

“He comes first, my baby. He comes in before all else,” Brian told him, “If you want to be involved as a father I’ll one hundred percent give you that right, but Gee is my priority.”

“I understand,” Roger nodded, suddenly feeling like he wasn’t in charge of the conversation or how it went any more. “Why don’t you sleep? Let me look after you both.”

“You’re staying?”

“You’re my family, you and junior,” Roger nodded, settling down on the chair by the bed, “I’ll be here to watch over you.”

***

“…and that’s the plough,” Brian pointed to the next constellation on the window, his voice quietly filling the hospital room, “The Americans call it the Big dipper cause they’re wrong. And that bright one is Venus.”

Roger smiled a little, waking up again to the sound of Brian talking, not wanting to disturb them. The baby was sleeping against Brian’s jumper, completely indifferent to what was going on in the galaxy, but nevertheless getting a lecture on it. He must’ve fallen asleep on the chair, but Brian now had little Roger held against him quietly muttering. He hoped the little one would continue to listen, to sit with him mama and look at the stars as he got older. Roger sort of melted everytime he thought about that image, too sweet for him.

He shifted in the chair slowly, not to draw in attention. Brian would go back into over protective mode if he knew he was awake, or he’d put the defenses back up and shut him out again, he just wanted to enjoy the view of his own stars.

***

“Yeah, he does it when you’re here, of course it works when I’m trying to prove a point,” Brian huffed, the nursing baby lying peacefully against him. They were due to leave and go home the next day, going to live in Brian’s flat until their relationship was back to one hundred percent again. “The second you’re out the room he’ll misbehave.”

“I think you’re over exaggerating a little bit, love,” Roger pulled the blanket over Brian some more, smoothing it out for him, “I mean, how many times have you tried to feed him?”

“Three, four with this one,” Brian admitted, starting to look a lot more tired and stressed, “I just want to be perfect for him.”

“You already are, babe you’re the best,” Rog promised him, “Just relax, let him get used to the outside of you, he’ll chill out too once you have.”

“How’d you know?” Brian pulled his shirt back together, awkwardly trying to balance the baby and burp him without moving himself too much.

“I’m his dad,” Roger told him, taking the child, rocking him against his shoulder, “I know.”

"You're sweet with him," Brian smiled, watching them with doe eyes, "My Rogers."

"I think he's trying to look out of the window," Roger commented, "Looking at the stars."

"Atta boy," Brian smiled, "Thank you, for coming back. For staying.”

"I was giving you a break… And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else." Never again, not until his last breath, "How're you feeling?"

"Still a bit achy, and I think I'll keep him on the bottle for the next few feeds," he was still pretty shy about revealing himself in any way, plus he couldn’t help but struggle. "Dom messaged, said to tell you congratulations."

"Of course," Roger half smiled, rocking back on the chair, the baby clinging to his shirt. "Go back to bed, yeah Junior? I'll make sure you’re settled and safe, you and your mama."

***

Six months later

Rog! Can you watch him while I take this call?”

Roger looked up, normally Brian did play time with their six month old since he could get up and down from the floor without any joints complaining about it, but Roger supposed for ten minutes he’d manage.

He still struggled to connect to him, the little blond thing was definitely more of a mama’s boy, which the press lapped up whenever they were spotted or Brian posted on his instagram. But little Rog had certainly inherited all of his looks from big Rog, blond hair that seemed to try to curl but didn’t quite manage, big blue eyes and rounded nose; a spit of his namesake.

He followed the call into the bathroom where Brian was trying to dry his hands enough to answer his phone, their son wearing his little swimming trunks in the bath covered in… Paint?

“Brian what is that?” Roger took the toddler’s hand before he could put it in his mouth.

“Yoghurt with food dye, edible bath colours, washes off,” Brian told him quickly, “He’s still too young for actual paint. I thought this would be fun though, let him explore his artistic side, didn’t expect to get a call, Fred usually finds the worst times to call.”

“Right,” Roger smiled a little, of course he’d thought it up, trying to give their kiddo a good life despite all that happened, “I’ve got him, love.”

Roger knelt on the floor as Brian left, looking at the scene in front of him: a tiny cherub baby splashing colours about, getting them on the walls of the bath and his own hair, giggling happily.

“That fun?” Roger added a blue line to the splatters, making him laugh more, “Yeah you like that.”

Soon he was making as much mess as him, just to make little Rog giggle, not minding when he painted his shirt sleeves or managed to catch his face with the yoghurt.

Maybe they would always be slightly broken, and maybe their always wasn’t going to be long, but it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the last installment of this, if you have any asks or requests or anything head over to my tumblr and i'll happily answer there!


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